


a helping hand

by ScoffingAtGravity



Category: Miracle Workers (TV)
Genre: Don't @ Me, Ep: 12 Days, Gen, God Appreciating Rosie, God Is A Disaster, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Rosie Is A Saint, Rosie Is God's Favorite, She Isn't Paid Enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoffingAtGravity/pseuds/ScoffingAtGravity
Summary: Unsure over what to do about the pot pie burning his hands, God calls Rosie in for help.
Relationships: God & Rosie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	a helping hand

**Author's Note:**

> During a Miracle Workers S1 rewatch, I realized God wouldn't have been able to bandage his hands like that, and deduced Rosie had given him first aid after he burned his hands. Between that and God's hilarious recap, I was inspired to write the missing scene.

The numbers counted down, and anticipation coiled in God's stomach. Soon, his food would be ready. Three seconds, two seconds, one second…the microwave dinged.

"Alright!" God cheered. He hit the door release and opened the microwave's door. The rich aroma of the cooked pot pie wafted through his nostrils. He licked his lips. "Come to papa." Reaching into the device, he grabbed the pie and pulled it out. The heat stung his hands. "Ouch!" He shifted the pie so it stayed in one hand, and shook his free one. "Why is this thing so hot?!" He switched hands and yelped as the heat burned the tender flesh of his palm and fingers. Unsure what else to do, he paced back and forth furiously, and hoped the wind he stirred up would cool the dish down. It didn't. He re-shifted the pie, so it was cradled in both palms. "Rosie!"

If anyone would know what to do, it would be Rosie. She'd worked with him for decades and had helped him immeasurably. While God considered Sanjay intelligent and a great companion, he couldn't replace Rosie as his most valued angel. Plus, Sanjay had something going on while Rosie was at her desk.

A couple seconds went by without acknowledgment from Rosie, and God winced at the searing pain. "Rosie, get in here! I need you!" Agitated, he began hopping around to distract himself from the negative sensations emanating from his hands.

The door to his office flew open, and Rosie walked in. She closed the door behind her, and then paused. Her eyes surveyed the scene in front of her for a moment, and her brow furrowed. "What's going on?" Her question was mixed with bemusement and concern.

"I took my pot pie out of the microwave, and it's hot! My hands are burning! What do I do? What do I do?" He paused his movements and stared at her beseechingly.

Rosie's eyes widened, and she moved forward – hands outstretched. "Oh, my god. Drop it! Just drop it! Why are you still holding it?!"

"It's my lunch! I can't just drop it!" God looked at her in disbelief.

"You're going to continue burning your hands if you don't!"

Dissatisfied with that advice, he began hopping around again, and blew air on the piping hot meal.

Rosie dragged her hands across her face and closed her eyes. A groan escaped her throat. She opened her eyes and tried to get his attention. "Look, just set it down on the table then!"

"Now, you're talking sense!" God spun around to face Rosie and miscalculated the effect his momentum would have on the loose grip he held the pie in. It fell out of his embrace and onto the tile floor. He froze and stared at his fallen meal. Sadness descended upon him, and his shoulders sagged. Before it could fully take effect, the pain in his palms screamed at him. He glanced down at them and frowned. They were bright red. He flexed his palms to test the damage, and hissed at the painful stretch.

Cautiously going over to the distracted deity, Rosie inspected the burn. She quickly determined it as superficial but needing first aid. She laid a hand on God's right elbow. "There's nothing to be done about the pie now, but those burns need attention. Let's go." She canted her head in the direction of the bathroom and tugged at his elbow.

Unable to refute her assessment, God allowed himself to be led to the bathroom. Rosie turned the faucet on the sink and checked the temperature. She waited for it to cool down, and then rolled up her sleeves before moving to do the same for him. Once the fabric was out of the way, she moved his hands into the stream of water.

"Keep your hands there a couple minutes," she ordered, removing her hands from his wrists. "I'll get the first aid kit, so I can wrap them once you're done."

"Thanks, Rosie," God said, voice soft. While sharp jolts were still playing across his flesh, he could tell the water was helping.

"You're welcome."

She crossed the room to rummage through the cabinet. A variety of items cluttered the interior, and it took her a while to locate the first aid kit. She popped the top open and searched for the gauze. Two rolls of gauze rested in the bottom, and she plucked them out. Shutting the box, she set it back down, and then closed the cabinet door.

Having lost track of counting the seconds, God hummed a tune to himself. Songs usually lasted a couple minutes, so it would surely work well as a gauge for how long to keep his hands under. His eyes wandered over to Rosie as she went over to the toilet and shut the lid. Reaching the end of his song, he pulled his hands out of the water. "Okay, I'm done."

Rosie moved back over to his side and turned the faucet off. "Now, I need you to sit on the toilet. I'm going to wrap your hands." She pushed him toward the toilet, and he obediently sat down. She used a clean washcloth to dab his hands dry and crouched down to his level. "While your burns aren't severe, they still need to be covered for a while – probably until later on tonight," she explained, gently wrapping gauze around his right hand. Figuring he might try to pick up another hot dish, she decided to make the wrappings thick.

Eyes fixated on the concentrated expression on her face, God barely registered the words. All he heard was 'covered' and 'night', but he put the pieces together. "So, like nine o'clock?"

She lifted her head to meet his gaze and nodded. "Yes, it'll be fine to remove them then." She returned her attention to his right hand and quickly finished wrapping it – tying the ends together to keep it fixed in place. "You need to keep your wrappings as dry as possible and avoid any intensive hand activity."

He offered her his left hand, and suppressed a shuddering breath when she took his wrist in a firm yet careful grip. The intimacy of the moment dawned on him, and he couldn't remember the last time he had all of Rosie's focus to himself. Warmth blossomed in his chest, and he smiled at her. "You always take such good care of me, Rosie."

Briefly flickering her eyes up to meet his, she huffed a small laugh. "Well, it is in my job description." She secured the gauze on his left hand and dropped his wrist. She glanced over her work and, satisfied with it, regarded God. The closeness of their proximity struck her, and she coughed. The absolute trust and affection in his eyes were too much. Looking for a diversion, she rolled his sleeves back down but left a bit folded at the cuffs to keep it from aggravating the bandages. "Well, I have work to get back to. Those should hold, but call me if they get wet or somehow unravel." She stood up, took a step back, and tidied her own wardrobe.

The spell broke. "I will." He nodded. "Thank you, Rosie." She turned to leave and made it a few steps before he stood up and held a hand out. "Wait!" Securing her attention, he continued. "I need you to deliver a message to Sanjay. Tell him there was a pot pie emergency, and I need his assistance ASAP."

"Will do, God."

Watching her exit, the warmth in his chest cooled, and he wandered back over to his fallen pie. The filling had fallen out and left the crust broken. A cardboard container sat atop the hollowed out husk. He nudged it with his foot, and sighed – gaze moving to the shut doors. "I know how you feel."

**Author's Note:**

> I have another Miracle Workers fic in the works, which will be set post-S1. If you picked up any God-having-a-thing-for-Rosie vibes, that was on purpose. My other fic will have an eventual God/Rosie pairing (as well as Craig/Eliza/Sanjay). Remember: reviews nourish my soul. :)


End file.
